I woke up today just in time to see a short, but violent, hail storm. By the end of it all, there was enough ice on the ground to fashion crude snowballs. I have always loved violent weather. It serves as a reminder that we're not in charge, and it breaks routines. It also helps fill our reservoirs and turn the hills green.
Oh yeah, and it kills people. There was a short article in the paper today about a woman who ran off the road in the rain(sunday night?) and crashed into some trees. She either died on impact or some time later, but wasn't discovered until Caltrans workers came along to clear away the downed trees. This just struck me as particularly sad for some reason.

Okay, I can't think of a way to segue into a paragraph about Nathan's birthday, so I'll just blunder right on. He's four now, and we had a party at Chuck E. Cheese's. Jen, even though she felt absolutely miserable, saw it through to the end. I don't know if I could have done that, had I been as ill as she is. Sophie likes playing skee ball, but cheats.

Tonight, it rained off and on, and there was more lightning. It's even colder than last night.

cds I listened to while wishing I was dressed more warmly: Manilla Road "Open the Gates" and "The Deluge", Sleepytime Gorilla Museum "live at the Bottom of the Hill, S.F., 1/25/02", and Per Gudmundson "s/t"

now: Coil "Constant Shallowness Leads to Evil"